Inevitable
by Porcuswine
Summary: When a serial killer is targeting Marines with Jewish wives, two members of Team Gibbs have to step up to put an end to it. An undercover operation awaits them, and perhaps even something more. Could it be love? PS: Lots of TIVA!
1. Chapter 1

_Summary: When a serial killer is targeting Marines with Jewish wives, two members of Team Gibbs have to step up to put an end to it. An undercover operation awaits them, and perhaps even something with a more personal nature. Could it be love?_

_Author's note: I know this is not the sequel to My Child that I promised. These two stories are not connected at all, there's no Rachel in this one._

_Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or an of its characters. They belong to CBS and whoever else owns them. This is written purely for entertainment. No profit is to be gained from this, other than the satisfaction I get from writing it, and hopefully the satisfaction you, the readers will get from reading it.  
_

_

* * *

_

"It was not my fault!" a slightly louder than usual voice argued.

"Oh, and whose fault was it then?"

McGee sighed and turned his eyes away from the dispute between his coworkers. He tried to refocus on his computer screen, to resume reading the latest news, but soon found he couldn't.

"That policeman's!" Ziva accused, glaring daggers at Tony as if he was the policeman who was at fault of something in her eyes.

„How was it his fault that you broke the law?" Tony demanded, the accusing glint that had shined in his eyes only moments ago quickly turning into an amused one.

Ziva scoffed. "Law? If you ask me, then it is one stupid law! Besides, it was only about ten miles over the limit," she reasoned, glaring at Tony, daring him to disagree.

Ten? Tony couldn't believe what his ears were hearing. Surely they couldn't be hearing right. Could they? "Forty," he screeched out in response.

Ziva stared at him in bewilderment at the strange sound he'd made. It never ceased to amaze her what people could do with their voices. "The street was empty," she justified.

Now it was Tony's turn to be bewildered. "Which part of it?" he inquired. "The air above it?"

Ziva just glared at him a little more, letting the sarcasm slide. "The driving part," she informed him.

Tony shook his head in exasperation. They had very different ideas of what a street might look like when it's empty. He was certain he was never going to make Ziva understand the logic and reason for speed limits. She didn't even seem to want to understand.

"Something wrong, DiNozzo?" The rather unpleased and unhappy sounding voice could belong to no other than one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He'd caught the look of exasperation on his agent's face and now wanted to know the reasons to it.

Tony shot a quick glance to where Ziva stood behind Gibbs. She was doing her best at using rather obvious body language, signaling to Tony that he should not tell Gibbs. He chose to bluntly ignore her efforts.

"Ziva got caught speeding, boss," he reported, looking like a dutiful schoolboy telling on some other student. He tried to ignore the death glare the aforementioned woman was sending him.

Gibbs went to his desk and clicked onto something in his computer. After about a minute he looked back up at Tony, who still stood where he'd stood before, a look of expectance adorning his features. Gibbs face betrayed no thoughts or emotions.

"But I got no ticket," Ziva defended herself.

Tony now turned to her. "That's only because you apparently decided it would be so much fun to threaten the poor police guy and scare the crap out of him."

Ziva smiled mischievously.

Gibbs only chuckled. "You should learn to do that too, Tony."

When Tony did nothing more than stare at his boss, with a slightly offended look on his face, the old man sighed mentally.

"What do you want me to do, DiNozzo? Give her a lecture on how wrong it is to break traffic laws?"

"That'd sure be nice," Tony muttered under his breath.

Gibbs came out from behind his desk and stood before the plasma screen. "I've got a better idea," he started. "How 'bout I give you a lecture on how wrong it is to rat off your coworkers when they do something wrong?"

That left Tony gaping like a fish out of water. Only he was not a fish, but a man currently totally out of words. He soon regained his composure, though. "That's not necessary," he mumbled in response. He held back the sudden urge to show his tongue at Ziva, who gave him a victorious smirk.

Gibbs gave them both a short glare. "If you two are finished, then may I inform you that we have a case?"

Tony immediately opened his desk drawer and took out his badge and gun. His hand was halfway to grabbing his backpack when he noticed the strange looks the others were giving him. He froze. "What?" he questioned.

"What are you doing?" Gibbs asked, quirking one eyebrow at the younger man quizzically.

Tony looked puzzled. "Well, you said we have a case, so…" he trailed off, the intended words dying on his tongue as he realized no one else had taken their gear. "Never mind," he muttered and dropped his things back into the drawer.

An almost unnoticeable smirk tugged at the corner of Gibbs' mouth as he turned his attention back to the plasma. He clicked a button on the remote none of his team had seen him taking. It seemed to have materialized out of thin air.

A photo of a Middle Eastern woman lying in a pool of blood popped up onto the screen.

"That's our case," Gibbs said pointedly. "Having fallen to us from McKenzie's team."

His team gathered around the screen.

"The sixth Jewish woman killed in the same neighborhood this month. They all had Marine husbands and a happy relationship. Two of them had children. All stayed at home. Cause of death multiple stab wounds from the front."

"Sounds like a serial killer," McGee noted, looking at the photo of the young woman with compassion in his eyes.

"And a good one," Gibbs added. "Left no DNA or fingerprints to any of the crime scenes. McKenzie's team never even got close to him."

"Him?" Ziva questioned softly. "How can you be sure?"

"Or her," Gibbs agreed.

The team was silent for a while. Finally Ziva voiced out what they'd all been thinking.

"Why did McKenzie's team give the case to us?"

Gibbs gave her an unreadable look before answering. "They didn't. Apparently the Director thinks you'd do well as bait."

That was met with heavy silence. Both Tony and McGee's eyes were suddenly trained on Ziva, concern evident on their faces. Ziva however showed no signs of either concern or worry. Definitely not fear. One who knew how to look could see a sparkle of excitement dancing in her eyes.

"And you'll play the loving Marine husband," Gibbs continued, now turning to Tony. He gave a small smile at the sight of his agent's face lighting up by the news.

"Great," Tony replied enthusiastically. "I've always loved undercover assignments," he added, looking directly at Ziva and remembering their last undercover work together. The pleasant images of that hotel room popped up in his mind, causing the corners of his lips to turn slowly upwards.

"Gibbs," Ziva protested. "Could someone else not play the husband?"

Tony gave her a hurt look, one to which she responded with a smirk.

"No," Gibbs replied curtly. He turned his eyes back to the screen, signaling to Ziva that this was not up for debating.

"You afraid you can't keep your urges at bay around me, Zee-vah?" Tony questioned playfully, wiggling his eyebrows at Ziva, who rolled her eyes.

"I am more worried about _your_ urges," she retorted, though she didn't look mad. In fact, she looked amused, excited even.

They could both feel the whoosh of air moving behind them just moments before Gibbs' hands collided with the backs of their heads, sending the bacteria flying from their hair.

* * *

_Do you want me to continue? Review and let me know :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all soooo much for all the reviews and alerts and favorite stories! You guys made my day when I came home from school and saw those 29 new letters from FanFiction in my mailbox! Keep 'em coming!_

_Thanks for Alidiabin for giving me some constructive criticism. I had this chappy already ready when I got the review, but I'll try to make the coming chapters better :)  
_

* * *

Tony pushed the button for the elevator, then drew back his hand and stood in a waiting position. Ziva stood beside him, an unpleased look detectable on her face. The small box arrived and they stepped in, not saying a word. The doors slid shut and a slightly awkward silence filled the elevator.

It seemed to grow, and soon Tony had had enough of it. "So, going undercover again, huh?" he more stated than asked, just to break the awkwardness.

Ziva chuckled amusedly. "You seem very eager to start."

Tony puffed out his chest a little and adjusted his tie in a moderately good imitation of James Bond. "Well," he started, creating a pause between his words for dramatic effect. "How could I not be?" He grinned down at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I will be playing your wife does not mean you can do what you want with me."

Tony looked offended. "I would never try anything on an unwilling woman," he said, acting all gentleman. "I value my life way too much for that," he added under his breath.

She gave a small laugh. "And you are telling me the thought of getting me to bed never crossed your mind?" Her voice was teasing, seductive even. It sent a shiver of thrill through Tony's body. He looked at her and found she was advancing on him, pushing him against the metal wall of the elevator. There was a sparkle of an uncommon sort in her eyes, something Tony had never seen before.

He stepped back a little, but then found he couldn't make another step. The wall was cool and smooth against his back, cutting off any escape route.

She was so close. He could feel her breath on his neck as she stared up at him. She cocked her head to the side, waiting for him to answer.

"Well…" he stuttered, trying to buy himself some time. The thought of getting Ziva into bed had indeed crossed his mind. Both reminding him of the last time in that hotel room, and creating new hopes of experiencing it again. Maybe a little more this time, even, seeing as they didn't actually _do _anything that night. Something that he dearly regretted.

He was saved from answering, though, when the all too familiar ding of an elevator doors opening drew them out of their little bubble. They had forgotten to flip the emergency switch. Ziva stepped away from Tony, giving him some air; he in turn went for adjusting his tie again, to give some occupation for his hands.

They began stepping out of the little metal box, but the sight that appeared before them stopped them both in their tracks.

In front of the elevator stood Jimmy Palmer, looking like he was seriously considering running away and never looking back until he'd made it somewhere really, really far. Alaska, perhaps. Or Greenland.

A smirk of amusement crawled upon Ziva's lips. "Hello, Jimmy," she greeted.

A look of sheer panic crossed Palmer's face. Catching Tony and Ziva in a situation quite like _that_ had never been on the top of his to-do list. In fact, if he'd paid any thought to it, it would've been down the very end. Or completely off the list.

He was debating whether what he'd seen could be qualified as "too much", when Tony's voice pierced his thoughts like a bullet.

"Enjoyed the view, Palmer?" he asked, not accusingly, but as if he was amused.

The poor Autopsy Assistant turned bright red. "Uh…I…" he stammered, "No, I mean…"

Tony patted him lightly on the shoulder. "It's okay, buddy. I understand." He made a show of keeping a straight face. When Palmer had stumbled into the elevator and the doors were just closing, he burst out laughing.

"Did you see his face?" he asked between cackles of laughter.

Ziva gave a chuckle of her own. "He looked like he would pass on any minute."

"He practically did! And it's pass out by, by the way." Tony took a deep breath to calm himself down, completely ignoring the look of annoyance Ziva gave him at the correction of her idioms. "But in his case he could've passed on as well," Tony chuckled. "And the look he gave you? He's absolutely terrified of you!"

Ziva gave him a weird eye. "What? Why should he be?" she demanded.

Tony was not given a chance to answer. "Who's terrified of Ziva?" Abby asked, standing before her computer, facing them.

"Palmer," Tony replied, glancing at Ziva. There was laughter in his eyes.

Abby chuckled.

"Why would he be scared of me?" Ziva inquired. "I have not done anything to him."

"It's because you _could_ do something to him, Zee-vah."

Ziva pondered it for a moment. "I suppose I could," she said slowly, thoughtfully. "But I wouldn't."

"But he doesn't know that," Tony pointed out.

The sound of Abby laughing brought them back to reality. They looked at her quizzically.

"What's so funny, Abs?" Tony asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"You," she said matter-of-factly. "You're so cute together."

Tony and Ziva turned to look each other with horrified eyes. They were _cute_ together?

Abby just laughed at their expressions. "So?" she started. "What brings you down here on this lovely morning?"

"It is past noon, Abby."

She quickly glanced out the window. "Oops," she said. "I must've dozed off at some point. Couldn't get much sleep tonight. An old friend of mine came over, and she has a habit of staying up late. Like really late. Like… early, even. Played computer games all night with volumes high up in the sky."

She noticed the odd stares the agents were giving her. "I'm off-topic." She looked puzzled. "What do you need?" she then proceeded to ask, drawing herself back out of her thoughts.

"Gibbs didn't call you?"

Abby raised one eyebrow. "No. Why should he call me?"

"We are going undercover," Ziva informed her. Tony just gave a big grin.

Abby's eyes widened significantly at the news. Tony and Ziva spent the next five or so minutes explaining to Abby why and how they got the mission. When they finished Abby's eyes were even wider, if it was humanly possible.

"You can't play bait!" she exclaimed. "You could get killed!"

Ziva sighed. She had feared this might happen. "Abby, calm down. I am not going to get killed."

"But what if you are?"

"I am not."

Abby pursed her lips slightly. "It's too dangerous."

Tony decided to step in. "Abby, it's what we do. Our work is sometimes dangerous, you should know that."

"I know but…" Abby ran out of excuses to keep them securely in the office. "Fine," she pouted. "What do you want from me?"

Tony and Ziva looked at each other before answering. "We need new ID's."

* * *

_Reviews make my day :) Just a little hint._


	3. Chapter 3

_Here you go, an extra long chapter because I just love you, every one of you who read this story :)_

_I have decided that each of the chapters will be dedicated to someone, the reasons may vary. It could be cheering me up, giving good ideas for the story, or as a birthday present to someone. It might be for other reasons too, but I can't think of any at the moment. So this one is dedicated to Different Child, for giving me an amazing review :)  
_

* * *

A small sparkle returned to Abby's eyes upon hearing this. It was widely known to the people of NCIS that she loved to create new ID's. She turned around to face her computer. "What names?" she inquired, her fingers flying effortlessly over the keys.

Tony and Ziva cast their eyes towards each other. They hadn't really paid much thought to the subject. Usually they couldn't choose their names in an undercover op, so this was an excitingly new prospect for them.

Abby took one look at their clueless looks and got an idea. A slightly evil smile crept its way up to her face, turning up the corners of her lips in a manner that could be considered creepy. "How about…" she started, scrolling through a page full of names. "Fritha and Covosier Clothesoff?"

Both Tony and Ziva snorted. "Where did you get those from?" Tony asked, trying to contain his laughter.

Abby smirked. "There's a whole list of names like that. You like them?"

The agents gave her horrified stares. "They are horrible."

"My other favorite last name is Buttreeks," Abby announced, giving a low chuckle.

That earned her another burst of laughter.

"Ooh, and someone says here that her mother went to high school with a kid named William William Williams. Imagine that."

"Poor child," Ziva noted.

Abby nodded. "And don't even get me started on Al Caholic."

"Okay, enough of fun," Tony interrupted, still chuckling, his mouth almost to his ears.

"As you wish." And Abby hid her face as she gave in to the waves of laughter she'd been holding back.

Fifteen minutes later all they had done was the choosing part. Tony and Ziva were now officially Jeremy and Adina Davis. Ziva had gotten a Hebrew name, naturally.

They left Abby's lab after about an hour when Gibbs called them and ordered them home to start packing. Abby had promised they'd get their new documents for the next morning.

Tony and Ziva were both moderately quiet on their way to the parking garage. The minds of them both were occupied with the thoughts of the upcoming operation. There were hopes. There were fears. And most of them were not about the mission itself, but the new form of living they'd soon have a firsthand experience of.

Neither was used to living together with someone. They definitely were not used to living together with _each other_.

Tony walked Ziva to her car. She didn't question his actions, but wondered silently where this sudden manliness had come from.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow?" It came out more of a statement than question.

Ziva smiled. "I would like that."

"Then so it will be," Tony concluded, and with his trademark grin he swung her car door open. He made a wide gesture with his hand, motioning her to get inside. "Signorina," he said, acting all gentleman, though with a hint of parody to it. "Grazie," Ziva replied, sitting into the driver's seat. Tony flung the door shut softly after her. "07:40?" he questioned as he peered in through the window she had rolled down.

She smiled in consent. "See you in the morning, my little hairy butt." Her voice had a sense of seductiveness to it, and a sparkle twinkled in her dark eyes.

Tony grinned. "I cannot wait, sweet cheeks."

Ziva gave him a slightly teasing smile. Then she took off with her usual speed, the sound of tires screeching echoing in the parking garage. She did a small slalom on her way, which Tony took as a swinging of hips. He shook his head in awe and amusement, remaining standing there for at least a minute. Then he remembered where he was and why he was there. He quickly made his way to his own car, uncomfortably far from where Ziva's had been. On his ride home all he could think about was how lucky he was for having met Ziva.

**oOoOo**

Ziva took off from the parking space, swinging the car from right to left in a motion very similar to a swing of hips. She saw Tony shake his head, a grin plastered onto his face from the rearview mirror. And with a grin of her own she sped out of the parking garage.

She entered the busy streets of Washington, and soon found herself in a seemingly endless traffic jam. She listened to the sound of car horns blaring all around her, but found she could tune it all out. She let her mind go wandering, and before she realized what had happened, she was back in the elevator with Tony.

She watched with wonder as she pushed Tony against the wall, her mind replaying the small conversation they'd had. But then it didn't continue with the doors opening and Palmer standing there. Instead Ziva reached out for the emergency switch and brought the elevator to a halt.

Their bodies were pressed together, Ziva could almost feel the warmth of his breath on her face. She reached forward and pressed her lips onto his, letting him take the lead. Tony's arms wrapped around her back, his hands bringing her face closer to his. The kiss soon evolved into a deeper, more passionate, more demanding one. Their tongues were fighting for dominance, their bodies seemingly glued to each other.

And then, _snap_, it was over. Ziva was brought back to reality by a particularly angry honking coming from the car behind her. The light had turned green and the flow of cars was rushing forward. She could barely make it through while the light was still yellow, but the car behind her was too late. Ziva could see the driver, a middle-aged man, shake his fist at her.

She could only drive for a couple of blocks when she was met with another jam. Sighing deeply she sunk back into her leather seat. She wondered where such a dream could have come from. Yes, there had always been a sort of attraction between them, but this had been something more. She had wanted him, really _wanted_ him in that moment.

She had never felt this way towards Tony before. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of those bugging thoughts, but it did no good. Sure, she liked him as a friend, but something more? She shouldn't feel something like that for her partner. He was… well, her partner, not her boyfriend.

_Sadly_, a little voice said in the back of her mind. Ziva was stunned. Where had all this come from? She didn't… love him, right? It was impractical to love someone. It had been drummed into her in Mossad. The more you love, the more you have to lose. And to love your partner? This was unallowable.

She forced her mind off the matter and sped forward when the light turned green, passing several cars easily as she swerved from one edge of the road to the other, trying to find a gap between the vehicles to slip through.

She parked her little black and red Mini on the edge of the road into a vacant spot in front of her apartment building. This spot was hers. Her neighbors always left it empty, knowing full well whose it was. Once a tourist had parked his car there, so Ziva had to put hers two blocks away from her apartment.

The next morning the poor tourist had found a note tucked under the windshield wiper. The people passing by had never found out why the cheerful man with a camera beside a green sedan suddenly lost all his color and crumpled into his seat, his legs suddenly not seeming to carry him anymore. And a minute later he took off with a speed so high that one could've swore the devil was chasing him.

Yes, Ziva was very fond of her parking spot, just as she was of her car.

She entered the building and went up the stairs. She strolled to her door and stepped in after unlocking it. She dropped her things on a counter and headed straight for her bedroom.

Once there she pulled out a medium-sized suitcase. She pulled open a drawer and slid her gaze over it critically.

Soon she was scouring out everything she might need. She packed all of her favorite clothes and then went to fetch a bag of personal items from her bathroom. She threw two books on top of the nicely stacked clothing. One Hebrew, one French. A small smile played on her lips as she imagined Tony's reaction to her bringing books to their undercover assignment, one he appeared to be thinking would be oh-so-much fun. Let alone books he couldn't understand. One of which he couldn't even read, forget about understanding.

When she finished packing, she discovered the sad truth. The lid of her suitcase wouldn't close. So she spent several hours trying to decide what to bring and what to leave behind. Finally she just took a sports bag in addition to the suitcase. It proved to be of great necessity, because she kept finding things from her apartment she would probably need during those weeks.

It was frustrating. She couldn't possibly bring her whole apartment with her, but there were things she just couldn't leave behind. Finally she just went to bed early, trying not to think about what she might've forgotten to pack.

**oOoOo**

Meanwhile Tony was taking the thing with complete ease, lounging on his couch watching one of his Bond movies. This time it was "Diamonds Are Forever" starring Roger Moore. He had decided along with Ziva on one of their movie nights together that the older Bond movies were better than the newer ones.

He had packed all his things hours ago and he didn't think he'd forgotten anything. He went to bed after the movie ended, but woke up in the middle of the night, startled. At first he didn't realize what had woken him. He listened for a while for any strange sounds, but there were none, strange or not. Then it dawned on him. He scrambled out of bed and to his suitcase before he had the chance to forget again. Just in case, he checked.

Yup, he'd been right. He hadn't packed any underwear.

* * *

_So what do you think? Good? Bad? Love it? Hate it? Let me know :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_I can't honestly express how happy you've all made me! 15 reviews for one chapter! This is by far my most successful story thus far. So I'll try to give you a new update every two-three days, just for being the best readers a girl could hope for!  
_

_Part of the dedication for this chappy goes again to Different Child. You should really go read her review, it's really a rare sight! And part of the dedication goes to Mariah4568 as a birthday present. Happy birthday to you! And because I'm in a really great mood at the moment the rest of the dedication goes to everyone else who reviewed! You guys make me want to write this story!  
_

* * *

Ziva woke up the next morning exactly at five. She didn't need an alarm to get her up, it was an old habit from her Mossad days that she didn't see a point in changing.

She went for a run, taking pleasure in the feeling of the soft cool morning breeze blowing to her face, pushing a few strands of stray hair out of her eyes.

She took the same route that she took every day, being used to its comfortable familiarity. A thought crept into her mind and she suddenly realized how vulnerable it made her. Taking the same route every day, at the exact same time. A perfect target. When she'd lived in Israel she'd never taken the same route two days in a row.

Now she pushed the thought out of her mind. She was in America now, the land of freedom, or so they said. She didn't need to worry about such things anymore. _You've gotten sloppy,_ she heard her father's voice say in her mind. She blocked it out. She didn't need _him _of all people telling her how she should live her life. She was happy this way, and this was all that mattered.

**oOoOo**

At seven o'clock an alarm rang in the apartment of one Tony DiNozzo. He reached out with his right hand and clumsily aimed at the snooze button. He dumped his head back onto the pillow. Surely another five minutes of sleep couldn't hurt, right?

The next thing he knew was that his whole body was suddenly exposed to a massive amount of cold air. His eyes flew open. They were met with a very familiar pair of chocolate brown ones. He'd seen those eyes somewhere before… Whoa! That was Ziva! His sleepy mind could slowly process the situation. Ziva was in his apartment. She had thrown the covers off of him. He slept naked. _Holy shit!_ He thought as he jumped off as if she'd suddenly thrown a bucketful of icy water upon his freezing body. His freezing _naked_ body.

He cast his eyes down at it and reached for the closest thing to cover his more private parts. He turned his eyes to Ziva's. He could see her eyeing him up and down. Her gaze rested on his manly area and a smirk formed on her lips.

Tony quickly looked down. And mentally cursed himself. He had covered himself with a nightgown. A golden, satin, women's nightgown. And just when he thought the situation couldn't have gotten any worse.

How had this nightgown gotten there anyway?

"Had fun last night?" Ziva questioned, mockery faintly audible in her tone.

"Well…" he started, trying to distract her with his signature DiNozzo grin. It didn't work. He should've known it didn't work on her. "No," he amended, "I bought this few days ago for a girl I kinda like. But now I'm starting to think she wouldn't like it." He seemed thoughtful for a moment. "What are you doing here?" he suddenly asked, as if noticing her actually _being_ there just now.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, a bewildered look adorning her features. "Work?" she offered. "Undercover."

"I know," he informed her. "You thought I forgot?" There was laughter in his voice.

She cast her eyes towards the clock on his nightstand. "Do you know what time it is?" she inquired.

He too turned to look at the clock. And gulped. 8:06. Great. Without saying another word he took off towards the bathroom. He took the shortest shower of his life, fixed his hair, brushed his teeth and was out of the bathroom in five minutes, a towel around his waist.

He darted to the closet and put on the clothes he had left there the day before, not having packed them on the exact purpose of planning to wear them today.

He skipped breakfast and bolted to the front door, grabbing his suitcase on the way. He took his wallet, keys, badge and gun from a counter and was out of the door like a breeze of wind.

He almost flew down the stairs, once again wondering why the house couldn't have an elevator. He exited the house and crossed the street to his car. Ziva was already sitting in the driver's seat of her Mini Cooper. As soon as Tony had made it to his car she took off with a screeching of tires. Tony followed her almost instantly, his speed not far below hers.

Gibbs would be furious.

**oOoOo**

They arrived at the NCIS parking garage at 8:21, after considerable amounts of car horning and cursing at the traffic. Tony, not being used to driving like a maniac, had missed loosing the corner of his car with mere inches as he sped after Ziva on a crowded traffic circle.

"God Almighty!" Tony exclaimed as he climbed out of the car, his knees slightly wobbly. "Who taught you to drive like that?"

Ziva smirked, looking perfectly at ease as if the horrendous drive to the NCIS HQ was nothing more than having a cup of tea. "What is the matter, Tony?" Are you afraid of high speeds?"

Tony could hear the mocking in her voice. "I'm not afraid of high speeds, Zee-vah," he said, his voice still a little higher than usual. "I'm afraid of getting killed by one!"

"You are alive," Ziva pointed out matter-of-factly. "I do not see the problem."

"Not for a long time," Tony muttered darkly under his breath. He hadn't intended for Ziva to hear it, but the amused smirk on her face told him he'd failed.

Together they entered the elevator, this time skipping the sexual tension part. They arrived on the right floor and almost ran to the bullpen.

Gibbs sat at his desk. His eyes snapped up to his two agents, though, when he heard them exit the elevator. The steely blue gaze followed Tony and Ziva on their way to the bullpen, where they headed towards their respective desks.

Gibbs gave a half-smile. "Nice of you to join us," he commented, sarcasm only faintly audible.

Tony sent him a wide grin. "We do our best," he said, shrugging his shoulders casually.

Gibbs' eyes hardened ever so slightly. "See that your best is better next time." There was a taste of warning in that sentence. Tony's grin faltered.

Gibbs reached for his desk drawer. He pulled it open and drew something out of it. It was a large manila folder. Tony eyed it with obvious interest. Gibbs flashed a smirk at his antics and handed the folder to Ziva, not saying a word.

The Israeli took it and opened it. After a peek inside she dropped the contents out onto her desk. Tony rose from his chair and crossed the distance between their desks in about a second's time.

"Ooh, what do we have here?" he asked and reached out a hand to look at the items more closely.

Ziva playfully swatted his hand away. "No touching," she bristled. Tony raised his hands in mock surrender, which seemed to be enough, because Ziva handed him something.

"Wow, driver's license," he commented. Then he peeked at the little pile on her desk again. "What else do you have there?"

Ziva didn't answer at once, but he could see for himself. Passports, birth certificates, documents for buying their house. Even bank cards with their new names. Everything. Abby had been thorough. Another driver's license caught his eye and he reached out again to snatch it up before Ziva could stop him. It was a regular driver's license, or at least appeared to be, until a date stood up to him.

"Hey," he exclaimed, part surprised, part annoyed, plus a great deal amused. "You let Abby make you two years younger!"

"I did?" she retorted, a surprised look crossing her features. She snatched the card from Tony to take a look herself.

Tony studied her carefully, to detect any signs of lying, but found none. Her eyebrows rose slightly in pleased surprise and a slight smile formed on her lips. "That is nice of her," she said quietly, almost like to herself only.

Tony let out a 'hmph' sound and after taking the documents that belonged to him from her desk, he made it back to his own desk. He did look up again, however, when she took her wallet and pulled out all things from it that had her name on them. She then proceeded to replace them with her new ones, the ones that belonged to Adina Davis.

Tony surveyed her actions. Then she put the wallet away like it was no big deal to throw out all her things from it. She placed her own cards safely into her desk drawer.

"What are you doing?" he asked, somewhat confused.

The Israeli looked up. "Do you want your cover to be blown the second someone gets their hands on your wallet?"

The realization dawned on Tony. How could he be that stupid? "Oh," was the only thing he felt like saying. He then pulled out his own wallet and started replacing the cards. Ziva gave him a sly smirk.

"Why couldn't she make me younger?" Tony muttered quietly. "I look a great deal younger than I am."

He never knew that Ziva heard those words. He didn't see the amused grin on her face. And he didn't know how happy she was that Mossad had taught her how to lie.

* * *

_Anyone up for reviewing? Oh, and a little sneak peak, in the next chapter they'll actually go undercover :)  
_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N PLEASE READ!** I take the blame. The last chapter raised quite a number of questions and I've been getting the impression that a lot of people got a wrong impression out of several things. So here I'll give you an explanation about the things people have mentioned in the reviews:_

_1) Ziva didn't sleep at Tony's place. She went there and picked his lock to find out why he hadn't come to pick her up yet as he'd promised.  
2) Ziva lied to Tony about not knowing Abby had made her younger. She had indeed asked her to do that, but didn't want to tell Tony. (What woman wouldn't want to be a bit younger? :))  
3) Ziva didn't actually pour any water over Tony. I meant that as a metaphor (if that's the right word for it)._

_I hope that cleared it up a little. If any of your questions didn't get an answer, feel free to ask, I'll answer to everyone personally :)_

_Oh, and just to let you know, I decided to change Tony's false name from Oliver to Jeremy. Just because I realized I didn't like the name (no offense to anyone named Oliver) and I couldn't think of any good nicknames for it. Sorry for the confusion.  
_

_This chappy goes to the memory Jenny. RIP :( I know this might seem weird to you, me dedicating a chapter to one of the characters, but I really liked her and I just watched JD 1._

_

* * *

_

"Get going," Gibbs told them about half an hour later, having noticed all the looks they gave each other, eager to start. Tony and Ziva both jumped up immediately. A single look from Gibbs was enough to stop them from running out of the office at that very moment. "A team has already checked the house for those listening and camera doodah's."

McGee opened his mouth to correct his boss, but soon clamped it shut. It wasn't that important.

"You don't need me to tell you the basics of an undercover op," Gibbs continued. Both agents nodded. "You know where the house is?"

"Uh…" Tony started, but was cut off by Ziva's curt 'Yes'. Gibbs gave a nod affirmation, which was also a nod of dismissal. The agents started towards the elevator, but were stopped again by their boss' voice. "See that you both come back alive," he warned them. "I'd hate to start looking for new agents."

He didn't look at either of the agents again, so they waved a little goodbye to McGee and went to the elevator.

"Wow," Tony exclaimed once they were inside the little metal box. Ziva glanced at him. "He basically said 'be safe'. Gibbs. Wow."

Ziva gave a slight chuckle. "Not a common sight," she agreed.

"Yeah…" Tony's voice was dreamy, his gaze somewhere far away. Ziva smirked when the elevator doors opened with a soft ding and Tony jumped. Ziva chuckled and patted him on the cheek. "Just the door, my love." She then brushed past him and into the chilly parking garage.

Tony hurried after her. "My love?" he questioned, surprise and wonder evident in his tone of voice.

She looked over her shoulder. "We are married, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember," he said, his lips curving into a wide grin. "So whose car it's gonna be?"

"Mine," Ziva immediately replied, setting her pace towards her Mini Cooper.

Tony stopped. "Whoa," he exclaimed. "Why yours?"

She stopped too and turned to look at him. "I would take us there a lot faster," she reasoned.

Tony shook his head in wonder. "You think you'd give a great impression of a lovely wife when you'd drive through that quiet and lovely neighborhood, breaking every one of our traffic laws?"

Ziva refrained from biting her lip, an action that would give away her hesitation for sure. Tony had a valid point, but she'd never admit it to him. Instead she turned to her car and took her suitcase and sports bag from the trunk. She took them to Tony's car. He opened the lid of his trunk for her when she reached him, allowing her to dump her things into the car. He slammed the lid shut when she'd finished.

"I appreciate the help," she stated sarcastically as she brushed past him on her way to the passenger seat.

Tony cursed at himself in his mind, but said nothing. Gibbs had told him too many times not to apologize. They exited the parking garage and were now on the streets of Washington. He glanced over at her carefully. She looked straight back. Damn her scary ninja senses. He put a wide grin on his face to hide the awkwardness of being caught looking at her.

She didn't look mad or offended that he hadn't helped her with her bags. He looked back at the road. Despite his efforts at easing the awkwardness in the small confined room, it seemed to only grow.

"So what do you think about the case?" Tony asked after a few minutes, not able to stand the awkward silence anymore.

Ziva turned her eyes at him. "What about it?" she countered. There was a slight edge of protectiveness to her voice, but Tony didn't notice.

"Well," he continued, "why do you think they're killing Jewish…" he fell silent as the realization dawned on him. Something flashed dangerously in Ziva's eyes. "Women," he finished numbly. He dared to take a look at Ziva. Her eyes were hard, her jaw tensed.

"I do not know, Tony," she said. Tony could hear suppressed emotions behind her words. "But I will find out," she added, more to herself than to Tony.

"_We _will find out," he corrected her softly, turning his gaze back to the road ahead of them.

The house they were supposed to live in wasn't very far away from NCIS, so after about fifteen minutes they were there.

It was a quiet neighborhood, a place where people moved to feel cozy. The houses had quite big gardens with older and bigger trees than the modern districts, thus separating the houses from each other and giving a sense of privacy. Security, even. It was a false sensation, as both agents knew.

Tony parked the car into the driveway of a beautiful house. It wasn't very big, but it felt warm and welcoming. The walls were the color of a mixture of yellow and orange.

"Home, sweet home," Tony concluded as he pulled the key out of the ignition. Without a word Ziva got out of the passenger seat and flung the door shut. She slid her gaze over the surrounding houses, surveying the area. She caught sight of a woman in her forties coming down the street.

When she reached their house, her eyes widened in surprise. The woman came to a halt for a moment, then turned and set her way towards Ziva.

"Hello," she called out, raising her hand in a wave.

Tony, who had came to stand beside Ziva, took a deep breath. "Here we go," he muttered, quietly enough that the newcomer couldn't hear his words. "Hi," he said louder, the word aimed at the woman.

"Hi," she greeted them again, "are you new here?" She had both kind voice and apparel. Her light brown hair was mostly down with some of it clipped away on the back of her head. She wore light blue jeans and a light grey turtleneck sweater.

"Yep, an all new house for us," Tony said, wrapping his arm casually around Ziva's waist.

The woman smiled. "Welcome to our neighborhood. I'm Cindy Cromwell, I live in that green house there." She pointed to a light green house a few houses away from Tony and Ziva's one on the opposite side of the road.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Tony said, "I'm Jeremy Davis and this is my wife Adina." He stole a loving glance at Ziva, one that was not entirely an act.

Cindy smiled warmly at both of them and they shook hands. Then her eyes moved from Ziva's face to her chest, where the Star of David necklace lay glittering softly in the sunlight. A shadow cast over her kind face and her smile dropped a little. Then, as if she'd realized what she was doing, the shadow was gone.

Her smile turned bright again. "You look happy," she commented, glancing at the agent's hands where they had planted simple wedding rings. "How many years have you been married?"

"Two," Ziva said quickly, smiling up at Tony who in turn rubbed her side with the hand that was still around her waist.

Cindy grinned. "Mm, the joys of newlyweds," she pondered, her eyes dreamy as if remembering something from her past. "Me and my husband Tom have been married for fifteen years now."

Tony's eyes widened considerably at a mention of a marriage that long, while Ziva gave Cindy a kind smile.

Cindy chuckled. "I know," she said. "Some say it's crazy we still stand the sight of each other."

They all laughed.

"We have four children, maybe that's what keeps us together. Or we're just meant for each other."

Ziva brushed some of her dark curls out of her face. "How old?" she inquired.

Cindy looked at her again, a loving smile adorning her lips as she thought of her children. "Fourteen, ten and the twins are three."

"Wow," came from Tony. Both women turned to look at him. "Do you ever have some time for yourself?"

Ziva nudged his side. "Hey," she exclaimed, her voice a little accusatory.

Cindy chuckled, not seeming to mind. "Rarely," she informed them. "Which reminds me, I should get back home, Tom said he wanted to take the children shopping. I'll leave you two to settle in. If you need anything or just want to chat, well," she shrugged casually. "You know where we live."

* * *

_I'm not particularly happy with how this chapter turned out, but I hope you liked it._

_Now, a little request for you. Is there anything you would like to see Tony and/or Ziva doing? Where you would like them to go? What you'd like them to say? Let me know :)  
_


	6. Chapter 6

_You have no idea how happy you're making me! Seriously, I've never gotten so many reviews for any story! You keep making my day every time I check my email!_

_This chapter is dedicated to pirate-princess1, MaisMens, PodDoc, Radafa, canadianagurl, xteamgibbsx, Different Child, 206marlene and heyimmojo for giving me new ideas_. _Thank you. I'll try to use them all. I hope I didn't forget anyone, if I did, then the dedication expands to everyone who gave me new ideas._

* * *

"She seems nice," Ziva commented once they were inside with their bags. Tony pushed the door shut with his elbow and dumped his suitcase and Ziva's sports bag onto the floor.

They moved on to exploring the house, hands linked in case some nosy neighbors were watching through the large windows.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. He peeked inside a rather large vase. "Did you see the look she got when she saw your necklace?" He turned his head to look her in the eyes.

Ziva gave a nod. "Yes. She must know something."

Tony turned his attention back to the vase. It was beautiful, styled like the vases of Ancient Egypt. "Mhmm," he mumbled incoherently. "Or she might just be concerned with your safety."

Ziva pursed her lips in though. "It is possible," she pondered.

Tony wasn't paying much attention to her though. He laughed in surprise and admiration. He let go of her hand and went to stand in front of the large plasma TV, his hands spread wide as if trying to engulf the piece of electronics in an enormous hug. "Look at it!" he exclaimed. He looked over his shoulder and found Ziva rolling her eyes. "42'' screen! DVD player with Blu-Ray!" He gave an excited chuckle. "And look at the movie collection here!" he bent down to examine the line of DVD's. "They have all the classics in here!"

Ziva left the room. She had no doubt that after the assignment was over she'd have an extensive education in the field of American Movies. She didn't need to hear all that movie talk before the moment when she couldn't escape it anymore. Instead she went to explore the kitchen. It was a beautiful room, with warm terracotta-colored cupboards, light yellow and beige walls, and an orange and brown tiled floor. The room itself wasn't overly big, but the large windows gave it an open feel.

Beside one wall was a table for four. On the table was a pot plant in serious need of hydration. Ziva moved towards the cupboards to find a glass or a cup with which to take water to the plant. In the first on there were plates and bowls.

She pulled open another door. And jumped back instinctively, trying to muffle her shriek.

In the living room Tony dropped the movie he was examining and ran to the kitchen, his hand instinctively flying to his waist, but his gun wasn't there. He reminded himself that he'd put it in his suitcase. The neighbors would've surely gotten suspicious when they'd arrived in the neighborhood armed.

He stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway when he saw Ziva standing in the middle of the room, with no apparent threat visible.

One cupboard door was wide open, but she made no movement to either close it or take something out of it.

"Ziva?" he questioned, his brow arched quizzically.

She spun around. Tony saw her trying to mask the edge of panic in her eyes. She threw a bewildered glance towards the cupboard again. "Could you…" she stopped to look towards the cabinet again. "Get rid of that thing?" she asked, forcing her voice to sound calm.

Tony approached the cupboard with some carefulness. Ziva took a few steps backwards when he stopped in front of the cabinet and took a peek inside. "What's wro– whoa!" he stumbled backwards. "That's a… big one."

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Ziva said impatiently. "Would you get rid of it?"

He turned to look at her, a chuckle escaping his lips. "My ninja is afraid of spiders?" he questioned amusedly.

His ninja gritted her teeth angrily. "I am not," she argued matter-of-factly. "I just do not like them."

Tony turned back towards the cupboard. "You could've fooled me." He chuckled and pushed a few glasses out of the way to make room for his hand. Then he reached towards the back wall of it carefully, trying not to startle the quite sizable black spider sitting there and staring back at him arrogantly.

He placed his palm over it in an instant, not giving the spider a chance to escape and run wildly around the kitchen. He slid his hand out and placed the other under it, securing the spider between his hands.

Ziva shuddered. Tony turned around, grinning. He reached his hands out towards her. "Wanna see?" he asked, trying to hold back laughter.

She gave him a death glare and couldn't keep herself from taking a step backwards. Tony chuckled. "I've finally found something that intimidates you." It sounded very much like a praise at himself. He exited the kitchen and went to the front door, pressing the handle his elbow. He threw out the spider and was just about to pull the door shut when he noticed the elderly man staring at him with interest.

Tony raised his hand in a wave and gave a wide grin. "My wife," he called out. "She ordered me to throw out the spider." He chuckled.

The elderly man grinned at him and nodded in understanding. He then turned around and walked away, muttering to himself.

Tony shrugged indifferently at the strange encounter and shut the door.

On his way back to the kitchen he couldn't help but think, how could Ziva, his favorite ninja, the woman who faced the worst of the society on a daily basis, who cracked suspects in interrogation, be afraid of a simple spider? It didn't make sense. Then again, a lot of things didn't. Everyone had their secret fears. Ever since that hectic encounter with an iguana in Cuba he had been afraid of them. Not to mention his dislike for rats. Ziva know about the latter, but he seriously hoped she'd never find out about the first.

He found Ziva leaning against the counter, her gaze distant. She focused her eyes on him though when she heard him reenter. He chose to approach the situation with humor. "You never told me about your fear of spiders," he commented with an amused smile.

She met his gaze. "I am not," she insisted. Tony could see she didn't believe it herself either. He opened his mouth to say something, but she gave him no chance. "Would you just drop it?" she demanded. He closed his mouth. Ziva averted her gaze and stepped to the window, looking out to the street.

She could feel his eyes following her, so she looked at him again. "I do not want to talk about it, Tony," she said, her tone softer this time. He swallowed. There was something more to it, there had to be. He could see it in her eyes that she was trying to suppress memories. Bad ones, he guessed.

"Listen," he started. "If you ever want to talk about it…"

The corner of her mouth turned up almost unnoticeably. "I know."

Tony looked away and scratched the back of his head. Serious topics always made him feel a bit uneasy. "So," he said, trying to lighten the mood, "you up for a little shopping?"

It worked. Ziva's lips twisted into a bewildered smile. "Shopping?" she inquired.

He made his way over to the fridge and pulled the door open. He stood beside it and pointed to the gaping emptiness for maximum effect. "Ta-da."

Ziva quirked an eyebrow at him. "What should I be looking at?"

Tony suppressed a sigh. "That's the point, Zee-vah," he explained patiently. "All this fridge has is emptiness screaming back at you in capital letters."

She smiled slightly. "The fridge cannot scream," she pointed out.

Tony rolled his eyes. "I know it can't." He then grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the room. "Come on, I'm starving here."

Ziva twisted her hand out of his grip, but followed him anyway. "Why did you not eat breakfast?" she asked when he locked the door after them.

His eyes snapped at her in an instant. "You were the one that dragged me out of bed!"

She chuckled. "It is not my fault you slept in."

They sat into the car and Tony started the engine. "Why can't I drive?" Ziva inquired.

"Ziva," Tony replied matter-of-factly as he pulled out of the driveway. She looked at him questioningly. "I told you before, you'd blow our cover."

**oOoOo**

"Do we really need all this stuff?" Tony whined.

Ziva reached for some carrots, which made Tony sigh yet again. He'd sighed a lot during the last half an hour. "You were the one who wanted to go shopping," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

Tony looked like he'd seriously grown to regret that decision. "For groceries, yes. You didn't say anything about a load of vegetables!"

Ziva merely chuckled. "It is about time you ate something healthy." She gave him a slight pat on the cheek and turned away towards the fruit section.

"What?" Tony exclaimed once he saw where she was headed. "All this is still not enough?" He shot an exasperated glance towards their trolley.

Ziva picked out some nice-looking nectarines and put them in a small plastic bag. "You are complaining?" she inquired, placing the nectarines into the trolley. She then turned back to get some bananas.

He shook his head in awe. "Yeah, Dee, I really am!"

Ziva turned to look him in the eye, a small smile playing on her lips at the nickname he'd created for her undercover persona. "Why don't you choose something you like then?"

Tony was speechless. They were standing really close, their eyes fixated on one another. He stared down at her. Oh how he wanted to kiss her. She tilted her head slightly to the side, slightly parting her lips. Tony cursed at himself mentally. That woman really knew how to play her game.

"Hmm?" she hummed, waiting for a response.

"Oh well," he said, being over-dramatic. "As hard as it is, I'll do it. Follow me." And he took off towards the meat and fish section.

Ziva trailed after him. She didn't say a word as he studied all the things laid out for display. She did, though, have something to say when Tony placed his order to the woman behind the counter.

"A pound of pork, please," he said.

"No way," Ziva argued.

"Wait a sec," he told the woman. She gave him a confused look. He turned his gaze to Ziva, who was staring right back at him with a challenging expression. "What's wrong, sweet cheeks?"

"It is not exactly kosher," she explained, raising her eyebrows slightly.

Tony got the hint. It would be advisable for them to show it publicly that she was Jewish, to bait the possible killer. He turned back to the woman behind the counter who was still waiting. "Make that turkey."

* * *

_I hope you liked that :) Anyone up for letting me know how I did? Anyone have any ideas or things you'd like to see in this story?_


	7. Chapter 7

_You're awesome, people! 24 reviews for one chapter! I don't even have words to express what I'm feeling!_

_Oh, and the dedication for this one goes to xteamgibbsx, for giving me some great suggestions :)  
_

* * *

"It'll be a miracle if I don't have long ears and fluffy tail by the end of this," Tony muttered darkly. They were back home now, and busy with the task of loading food from the three bags into the fridge and cupboards.

Ziva chuckled, putting a small bag of potatoes into the fridge.

Tony stuck his hand into one of the bags and pulled out the item nearest to him. His shoulders slumped and he let out a huge sigh when he recognized what it was. Onions.

Ziva turned in the direction of the exasperated sound he'd caused. He was midway to closing the fridge door when she slipped her fingers into the crack forcing him to open it again. He did so, along with look of confusion clouding his eyes.

She pulled the bag out of the fridge. When Tony opened his mouth to protest and raised his hands slightly in a confused manner, she gave him sly smirk. "Onions don't go to the fridge, my little hairy butt."

He shook his head in awe and wonder and backed away. "You'll do better alone here," he noted as he watched her take the onions from the small plastic bag and put them into a large bowl.

"Probably," she agreed, digging into the groceries bag again.

Tony leaned against the doorframe and watched her work her way methodically through all three bags. "Hey," he called, drawing her attention. "You got anything to actually _eat_ there?" His words were illustrated by his stomach growling. Loudly.

She reached into a bag and pulled something out. She threw it at him, not missing an inch, while he caught it expertly. A banana.

"Come on!" he whined, holding up the banana for her to see. "What are you, a vegetarian?"

She smirked. "Maybe I just want to improve your eating habits," she pointed out.

He hmphed and started peeling the skin off of the fruit. He took a bite. It was delicious, tasting just right. He hadn't realized it had been a long time since he'd eaten a banana, or any other fruit for that matter. Maybe Ziva was right after all. But carrots? And what on Earth was she planning to do with cabbage?

His mind couldn't even start processing the thought, because a much more interesting one walked straight up to him. He suddenly found himself staring right down at Ziva, their bodies awkwardly close. At least it should've been awkward; anyone watching them at NCIS would've sworn it would be awkward. But for some unfathomable reason it had never been awkward for them. It felt… natural. Right, even.

She was so beautiful. He long dark curls surrounded her face, cascading down her shoulders. Her face was perfect, without a single imperfection. It should not be possible for someone to look that good. Her eyes sparkled playfully, as If inviting him to make the first move.

Meanwhile she was staring up at him, admiring his features, the perfect shape of his lips, his straight nose… She could go on forever. Did he look that beautiful to everyone, she wondered, or just to her. After all, how did the expression go, the beauty is in the eyes of a beer holder? Something like that. The only fault was that she wasn't holding a beer.

In fact, she found her fingers closing around his where they held the banana. She pulled it towards her, taking a bite. "Mmm," she hummed, licking her lips slowly. He could see it in his eyes that he wanted her. But did he feel anything else?

She didn't want to be just another one of his girls. Someone to have fun with a few nights and then be dumped. She'd never wanted that. What she wanted was a relationship, something that would last. She wanted children. Someday. She'd known from since she was very little that she wanted her own child. Maybe it came from always taking care of Tali; maybe she just was like that.

But could Tony offer those things to her? He had all she was looking for in a man. Great character, compassion, good sense of humor (a bit too good at times), handsome looks, great body. Experience in bed. She hated it when men didn't know what they were supposed to do once they made it to bed.

The question was, would he have it in him to settle down with her?

**oOoOo**

Tony stomped down the stairs, not bothering to be quiet. He looked around when he made it down, glancing around with a mischievous glint in his green eyes.

He first looked into the kitchen, but found it empty. The same with the living room and bathroom.

Becoming suspicious he exited the house and even did a circle around it. Nothing. Frowning, he reentered the house.

He looked around again. Where the heck was she?

"Ziva?" he called out.

"Yes, Tony?"

He jumped. High, fast and far. If it were possible he would've jumped out of his skin and left it laying there on the carpeted floor at that very moment.

But he couldn't, so he settled with spinning around so quick he almost dislocated his neck. He pressed his hand on his chest for dramatic effect.

"Ziva!" he hissed, rubbing his neck. "I've told you not to do that again!"

She grinned like a Cheshire cat, her right hand playing with a strand of her hair. "Did I startle you?" she asked mockingly.

Tony gritted his teeth. "Yeah, you did! More than that, you almost gave me a stroke! I could have died!"

The Israeli laughed and brushed past him towards the wooden stairs, giving him a slight pat on the cheek as she went.

"Where were you anyway?" he inquired, still sounding a little hurt at the fact that he'd let her sneak up on him. Again.

She turned around at the bottom of the stairs. "In the living room," she said matter-of-factly. When he still had that blank look on his face she elaborated. "Reading."

Tony scowled. "You're planning to _read_ through our undercover op?" he asked incredulously.

She started going up the stairs, not bothering to look if he was following. She knew he was.

How come I didn't see you in there?"

She threw him a teasing smirk. "Maybe you should look harder next time."

Tony hmphed, but said nothing more. She must've been on the couch, where the back of it would hide her. He mentally cursed himself for not thinking of it before.

He turned his eyes upwards and was met with a very pleasant sight caused by Ziva's well-shaped backside swishing from left to right.

"Stop looking at my ass," she ordered, not even so much as glancing in his way. She headed towards their shared bedroom.

Tony chuckled and followed her, shaking his head. "You're good," he noted. A thought then crossed his mind and he decided to test how far she'd allow him to go. "But so is your ass," he said, praying silently that she wouldn't turn all ninja-assassin on him. "And since I'm your husband now…"

He trailed off as she spun around and pushed him against the wall. He was sure she'd hurt him somehow, but she didn't. Instead she gazed up into his eyes and pressed her body against his.

He stared back at her, unable to move even if he'd wanted to. He was trapped between the wall and her body, but he found that he kind of liked it that way. It felt… right.

Are you saying you like my ass?" she questioned. He didn't know what to say.

She stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. Tony could feel her fresh breath on his neck, the warmth of her body against his. His hands found their way to her hips almost by themselves. "Maybe someday I will let you see it," she whispered seductively, her lips brushing against his ear. He felt goose bumps appearing on his neck.

And then it was over. She pulled away, smirking at him. She headed to the bathroom, playfully swatting her bottom as she went.

Tony shook his head in awe. "You're one mean woman, Ziva David," he called after her. He was pretty sure he heard her chuckle before the door closed.

He leaned against the wall and sighed. He'd been so close to kissing her. He had the perfect opportunity and yet he still chickened out. He'd never had trouble with kissing a woman. So why now?

His gaze rested on the bathroom door. What was so different in Ziva that made him want to take things slowly? He remained standing there and it never crossed his mind. The thought that this feeling, the one he couldn't quite place, the one that made him want to reach out to hold her close and never let go, was love.

* * *

_Reviews, anyone? They make me so happy :)_

_Oh, and a question for you. Is it okay if I reply to everyone personally. Would you like me not to? Because I was just told that not many people do that, so I started wondering if there's a reason to why they don't.  
_


	8. Chapter 8

_An extra long chapter for you, my dear readers, just for making me feel loved :)_

_This is dedicated to pirate-princess1 because she asked for more public scenes, and this chappy is one of the many public scenes to come :)_

* * *

Ziva exited the bathroom to find Tony taking his clothes from the suitcase to their shared wardrobe.

He cast a look in her direction. "We're going out," he announced brightly.

Ziva's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Tony continued the task of filling the wardrobe with various items of clothing. "Probie called. The victims all went to a bar somewhere around here."

Ziva chuckled and headed towards her own suitcase, which Tony had been so kind to bring upstairs. "Somewhere around here?" she inquired, quirking an eyebrow at him. She dragged her suitcase to where Tony was standing in front of the closet..

He put an Armani shirt onto the hanger, smoothing over it with his hand. "McDirections gave me the address. I wrote it down." He sounded proud of his effort at saving memory space.

After unzipping the lid she took out a stack of pants and placed it onto one of the shelves. Tony peeked around her to look into her suitcase.

"Got anything good in there?" he asked curiously, his eyes shining.

Ziva merely took out a green shirt and hung it on a hanger. "That depends on what you find good."

Tony gave her his signature DiNozzo-grin. "Well…" he started, but wasn't given a chance to finish. His eyes became fixated on a simple navy blue silk dress with thin straps that Ziva held in her hands now. He carefully grabbed it away from her. "That one's good!" he exclaimed. He held the dress in front of Ziva and eyed her up and down, obviously trying to picture her inside it.

She smiled mischievously and took the dress back, placing it securely into the closet. "If you are lucky you will see it someday."

"I cannot wait," he said, then, on an impulse, he leaned closer and added, "sweet cheeks."

She gave him a small wink and resumed unpacking her things. When she went to take her bag of toiletries into the bathroom Tony reached out and took the smooth fabric of the blue dress between his fingers. He let it slide over his fingers, enjoying the silky feel of it.

**oOoOo**

"When are you going to get over your problems with my driving?" Ziva demanded as she climbed out of the passenger's seat of Tony's Mustang.

He opened his mouth to reply with an annoyed comeback, but couldn't even get a word out before he was interrupted.

"Cut it, you two," Gibbs' voice ordered. "You fight like a married couple."

The married couple could both hear Abby's chuckle in the background.

"Very funny, boss," Tony commented, and was ready to wince at the headslap he'd surely receive. None came though. He caught sight of the snicker Ziva tried to hide.

"It only adds to your cover, DiNozzo," Gibbs pointed out through their ear pieces.

Tony's eyes widened. "You're encouraging it?"

"Do not say it, Gibbs. He would ride me crazy," Ziva cut in quickly, saving Tony from the terrible burden of having to fight with her "like a married couple".

She could hear Gibbs laughing in the other end. She could also make out the voices of McGee and Abby. Great, a nice romantic evening for the five of them. "What is so funny?" she inquired.

"Drive you crazy, Ziver, not ride," he corrected her, still chuckling.

She gave a frustrated sigh. "What is the difference?" She could feel Tony's bewildered stare on her.

"You don't wanna know," Gibbs said, amusement still evident in his words.

"I wouldn't mind showing you," Tony commented, giving Ziva one of his famous DiNozzo grins.

They could both imagine their fearless leader rolling his eyes. "Slap him, Ziva," he ordered.

Ziva, ever the good agent, rushed to carry out his order. Her hand met the back of Tony's head with a satisfying thump.

"Hey!" he cried out and rubbed the back of his head for dramatic effect.

She gave him a smug smirk. "Orders, Jerry," she said and pulled open the bar door, immediately switching into undercover mode. Tony followed her, shaking his head. "Crazy chick," he muttered under his breath.

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a playful eye. "I heard that," she mentioned, almost as a side note.

They linked their hands and slid their eyes expertly over the bar, taking note of everyone in their line of sight. The little camera in Ziva's hair clip was recording everything in front of them. Tony had no camera, since he'd refused to wear glasses like he'd done when they were undercover as married assassins. McGee had offered him a hair clip too, but he'd refused. As nicely as one Tony DiNozzo could when offered a women's hair clip to wear.

The place was crowded. It seemed like the whole neighborhood had gathered into the little bar. They made their way over to the counter, where two bar stools were unoccupied. A dark-haired woman raised her head as they approached.

"Are those seats vacant?" Ziva asked her.

She cast her eyes towards the two sitting spots and smiled. "Go ahead." Her voice carried a faint accent. Ziva could tell, since it was the exact same accent she herself had. She sat down to the left of the mystery woman and Tony sat to the left of Ziva.

Ziva studied the woman more carefully. She had dark eyes and tan skin like herself, she even had a Star of David hanging from a thin silver chain gracing her slim neck. Her beautiful dark hair was either naturally straight or straightened. It was long and thick.

"I am Adina Davis," Ziva said, introducing herself, "and this is my husband Jeremy." She cast a loving glance in his direction. He in turn pressed a soft kiss into her hair.

The Israeli smiled kindly at their obvious signs of love. "Deborah Wilkins, everyone calls me Debbie" she said, offering her hand first to Ziva and then Tony. They both shook it. "So, you're new around here, right?" she asked curiously.

Tony wrapped his arm around Ziva's waist lovingly. "Just moved in today," he announced proudly.

Debbie smiled whole-heartedly. "I remember when me and Greg moved here," she said dreamily. "We both fell in love with this neighborhood."

"So did we," Tony said, while Ziva paid attention to much different details. "Greg?" she questioned.

Debbie dragged herself out of memories and her eyes became fixated on Ziva again. "My husband," she elaborated. "We moved here a year ago."

Ziva looked around curiously. "Where is he?" she asked with a smile.

Debbie's smile faltered. "He's not here. He's in Iraq on his second tour." She cast her eyes down at her glass of tequila. Her finger traced the edge of the smooth glass absentmindedly.

"Do you miss him?" Ziva asked, a sympathetic look plastered over her features. Even Tony couldn't tell if it was an act or not.

A sad smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She looked up again to meet Ziva's eyes. "Every single day." Her voice was doleful and she sounded sincere.

Tony leaned farther on the counter to look at Debbie without Ziva blocking his visual. "When's he coming back?"

She looked down again. Her dark hair fell onto her face, but she pushed it away and tucked it behind her ear. She took a deep breath. Ziva could tell she was on the verge of crying. "In five months," she said, her voice weak and broken.

Ziva reached out and touched her arm, not knowing what to say.

Deborah looked at Ziva's hand on her arm and smiled slightly at her attempt at comforting her. "It's okay," she assured, more to herself than to Ziva. Suddenly she stood up. At Ziva's questioning look she pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. "I'll go use the restroom."

Ziva nodded in understanding and watched her go.

"McGee!" The sudden sound made Tony jump behind Ziva. She spun around on her seat instinctively.

"Sorry," he apologized, looking a bit sheepish, "I just bit my tongue," he said awkwardly.

Ziva smirked. "Do you want me to give it a relief?" she asked seductively.

He leaned slightly towards her. "I would lov…"

He suddenly found his lips in full contact with Ziva's. Her tongue caressed his softly. He wrapped his arms around her, but she pulled off. "We are in public, my love," she said with a wink.

"I want to hear them too!" Abby's voice echoed through their comm pieces.

"What's going on?" Tony asked. There were tiny microphones hidden in both his and Ziva's collars.

Both agents could hear a thump and an 'ow'. "McGee unplugged my earphones!"

"Hey, I didn't do it on purpose," the agent in question defended himself.

Abby huffed. "Then would you plug it back in, _please_?" The last word was said in an overly sarcastic manner. "Thank you." It appeared like McGee had fixed the problem.

"Could you give mine back now?" McGee inquired hopefully. Abby probably gave him his headset back, since Tony and Ziva heard no more complaining from him.

Tony chuckled. "McClumsy's having technical problems?" he questioned.

Abby gave a short laugh. "Your little _physical _interaction made him jump like a little girl," she informed them grumpily. "Hey, screen too!" she ordered.

Tony and Ziva could both hear McGee sigh loudly. It sounded like he was on all fours under the table. "I didn't _jump_, Abby," he argued. "My foot got stuck in the cords."

"Which means you jumped and since your foot jumped with you, your jumping unplugged my cords," she debated. "So, how's it going?" The cheerful tone of voice was obviously directed towards Tony and Ziva.

They shared a small but knowing smile. "You can see it all," Ziva pointed out matter-of-factly.

"Not all," the Goth protested. "And not at the moment. We're trying to get some ID's on the people at the bar with facial recognition."

"Have any luck that far?" Tony inquired, waving to the bartender to get them something to drink. He motioned back that he'd come as soon as he was finished with the customers he was currently talking to.

"A little," Abby said through the transmission. "Would do better if I could see the picture," she added pointedly. "Thanks Timmy." The picture had obviously been returned by McGee's heroic trip to under the desk. "Uh, Ziva, could you look to your left for a second. Thanks," Abby said as Ziva did so. "And now behind you…" The Israeli did that too. "Okay, I think I got all the faces…"

Tony chuckled at their little exchange.

"Oh, turn your head towards the restrooms."

Ziva gave Tony a scowl in return for his amused grin. "Abby, I cannot whirl around like some weird bird all the time," she muttered angrily into the microphone. "It is suspicious!" But she looked anyway and caught sight of Deborah coming back.

"Can't talk anymore," Tony whispered to Abby.

"Yes, sir! All clear, sir!" He could imagine Abby saluting to him, which brought a smile to his face.

Debbie sat down on the stool she'd sat on before. She gave Ziva a reassuring smile in reply to her unasked question about her wellbeing. She didn't look like the tears would start flowing at any minute anymore.

Suddenly a hand was placed onto Ziva's shoulder. She spun her head around, a bit startled. It was Cindy.

"Hi Deb, Adina, Jeremy," she greeted them all cheerfully. "I didn't know you were coming here," she told the "happily married couple".

Tony hugged Ziva closer; she in turn nuzzled her nose against his neck. He placed a soft peck onto her temple. She turned back around to smile at Cindy. "Here we are," she said.

Cindy laughed softly and shook her head in amusement. "You're like two lovebirds," she commented, her gaze trailing from Tony's hand around Ziva's waist to his other hand that was playing with one of her curls.

They had dragged their bar stools really close to each other, so Ziva was basically in his embrace, with both of his hands around her.

"Hey Dee, do we really look like lovebirds?" Tony asked suggestively from Ziva.

She just grinned and winked at him.

He leaned forward to place a kiss onto her lips, but she placed her finger on his approaching lips, forcing them away from hers. "We have audience, ahavah," she reminded him with a caring smile.

He pouted at Ziva refusing to let him kiss her. Both Cindy and Debbie laughed at his defeated expression.

"You look so cute together," Cindy noted. The couple grinned at her. "What I came to tell you is that we're having a barbecue this Saturday, and you'd be most welcome. You too, Deb."

Ziva gave a bright smile. "We will be there," she promised.

* * *

_So, what do you think of that chapter? Was it okay, because I'm not entirely sure it was._

_Oh, and a spoiler, the barbecue will probably be in the second next chapter. There will be some really awkward moments ;)  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_This chappy's dedication goes to Kelly76, for always pointing out the things she likes best in the chapters. Oh, and also because we have quite the similar ideas regarding Tony :D  
_

* * *

"You know, he has work tomorrow," Ziva said thoughtfully, her eyes resting on her "husband" in the other end of the bar. A loud laughter echoed from the table Tony was sharing with four other men.

Deborah gave her a disbelieving stare. "You're kidding me, right?" she asked with small chuckle.

Ziva turned to meet her eyes. "I wish I was," she replied with a chuckle of her own.

Both women looked at the group of men. The one sitting next to Tony suddenly high-fived him, and another burst of laughter could be heard.

"My father used to drink," Debbie said thoughtfully.

Ziva looked at her with questioning eyes. "Do you mean, drink like they do," she pointed at the men, "or drink like really drink?"

Debbie smiled at her confusion. "Drink like really drink," she explained. "He'd come home at night totally drunk and refuse to talk to anyone. My mother didn't like it when she never got an answer when she asked where he'd been. Like is not a good word to explain it. I guess she was disappointed in him."

Ziva searched her mind to formulate a story of her own. "My father died in a Hamas suicide bombing when I was fourteen," she said, keeping her gaze fixated on Tony's table.

"I'm sorry," Debbie said in soft voice.

Ziva turned to look at her, a wan smile on her face. "It is okay," she said, "It was a long time ago. It was just me and my mother from then on. She was devastated. When I was nineteen she committed suicide. I moved to America right when I got out of the army."

Debbie was silent. After a while, she spoke. "My father died when I was fifteen," she said. "From liver failure. All because of his drinking. My mother took it with a sort of it-was-his-own-fault attitude. I think she'd stopped loving him years before."

"I am sorry," Ziva said, just as Debbie had told her. "We have quite the similar pasts," she noted with a half-smile.

The other Israeli nodded in agreement. "Similar presents too."

Ziva cast a questioning glance in the other woman's direction. "What do you mean?"

"We're both married to a Marine," she pointed out and they shared yet another smile. Both turned their eyes towards the men's table. One of them, a man in his 30's with dirty blonde hair was telling something, a joke presumably, to the others with an utterly serious expression, while the others were clutching their stomachs in laughter. Both women chuckled when the serious-looking man burst into laughter as well.

Ziva downed the last of her water and set the glass firmly onto the counter. "Speaking of Marines," she started, "if that one truly is intent on going to work tomorrow, we should get going."

Debbie looked at her with an amused glint on her eyes. "Good luck with getting him out of bed early in the morning."

Ziva chuckled. "You have no idea," she told her newly found friend, if she could consider Debbie her friend. More of an acquaintance. "Aren't you coming?" she inquired.

Deborah glanced at her drink. "I'll stay for a while. Finish my drink," she gestured at her still half-full glass.

Ziva nodded. "Well, see you."

"See ya," Debbie said, giving a little wave.

With one final smile in her direction, Ziva headed towards the men's table with determination. When she was standing right behind Tony, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on his right cheek. He jumped and she laughed.

"Oh, hey there, sweet cheeks, thanks for startling me," he told her, grinning like a crazy man. He was obviously a bit drunk, as were all the other men at the table.

"We should go," Ziva mentioned lightly, her arms still around his shoulders.

Tony made a pouting face. "Let's stay for a little longer?" It came out more of a question, even if he'd originally meant for it to sound like a statement.

Ziva shook her head firmly. "No. You have work tomorrow, remember?"

Tony groaned. "You just have to ruin all the fun," he muttered, but got up nonetheless, swaying only a little. "Well, my dear comrades," he started, being way overdramatic. "I must bid you farewell." He tried to make a bow to the other men, but lost his balance and had to take the lean of his chair into a death grip to regain his balance.

"I am sorry, but I have to take him home," Ziva stated and started dragging Tony towards the exit. He came more or less willingly. She flashed and exasperated grin in Debbie's direction, who laughed and made a sympathetic face.

"Bye Jer," one of the men called out, a bit louder than necessary.

"King of the bar!" another one yelled.

With a snort and a shake of her head Ziva took Tony into the slightly chilly night. She ordered him into the passenger seat and took the driver's seat herself, despite Tony's faint protest that she couldn't drive properly. He didn't need to complain, though. To not look suspicious Ziva drove at a perfectly normal speed.

Once they were nearing their house, Tony let out a chuckle.

Ziva rolled her eyes.

"You think they bought it?" he asked, now sounding perfectly sober.

Her gaze snapped at him. "You are not drunk?" she questioned, slightly bewildered.

"You're complementing my acting skills, Zee-vah," he said with a grin. "Even you bought it."

"I saw you drinking," she argued, taken aback by the fact that he'd been able to fool her.

Tony shook his head, still grinning proudly. "Nope." When Ziva gave him a disapproving glare his expression turned into a slightly hurt one. "Hey, I know better than to get drunk when undercover," he defended himself.

She took a sharp turn off the road and pulled up in their driveway. "I had to practically drag you out of the bar!" she exclaimed, a little angry at him.

He flinched almost unnoticeably. "Yeah, sorry about that," he started, but Ziva cut in.

"Don't apologize," she snapped sharply.

"Sign of weakness, I know," he said quietly. "Look, I had to do it, okay? People are willing to talk much more when they're a little drunk," he explained. "Plus, they're not likely to remember what they gave as answers."

"And what useful information did you get?"

Tony scratched the back of his head. "Not much," he admitted. "But," he said, raising his voice ever so slightly at Ziva's disapproving snort, "they said that there's a man in this neighborhood who hates Jews. Said his name's Dave. People around here have done a little surveillance on their neighbors after all those killings, and had no evidence, physical or not, against him. But they said he looks suspicious."

"The janitor at NCIS looks suspicious! That doesn't make anyone a murderer. _You _looked suspicious in the bar!" she retorted.

Tony pursed his lips. "Well," he started, "you know, suspicious in a bad way. The janitor looks suspicious in a good way."

Ziva glanced at the rearview mirror. "Speaking of suspicious, what is McGee doing here?"

Tony turned in his seat to look out the back window. "No way," he said. "Gibbs really has that little faith in us?" he demanded. He proceeded to get out the car.

Ziva did the same.

"He's not in the car," Tony noted. "He must've broken into our house." He didn't sound happy at the newly discovered fact.

Together they headed towards their front door. It was unlocked. They entered quietly, with the intention of surprising their fellow coworker.

They found him in the living room, standing on a chair, doing something with the curtain rod.

"Nice to see you, McBreak-in," Tony called out.

McGee jumped. He tried to grab the curtain rod for support and at the same time turn around on the chair to look in the direction Tony's voice had come from. As a result he could do neither, so he fell unceremoniously and ungracefully off the chair he was standing on.

He hit the floor with a loud crash, which was soon followed by a quiet moan.

Ziva rushed to his side. "McGee?" she questioned, her voice steady. "Are you alright?"

He sat up, but didn't answer immediately. He inspected his body, wincing when he touched the little finger of his left hand. "I've been better," he finally replied, rubbing his left shoulder, which he'd fallen onto. He then turned his attention back to his finger. He'd stretched out his left arm as he fell, trying to lessen the force of the fall. The result was visible now. The poor finger was in a slightly unnatural position.

"Do you mind if I look at that?" Ziva questioned, reaching out for his hand.

McGee shot her a glance which said that he would mind, but complied anyway when she gave him a hard glare.

She took his hand and gently brushed her fingers over his finger joint. He winced. "McGee," she started. He looked at her. "How is your book going?"

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. Meanwhile Ziva continued her examination of his hand.

"Why would you ask that?" Tony inquired. He'd come to stand beside them.

"Because I am interested," she replied, never taking her eyes off McGee's hand. "Well?" she asked, somewhat more demandingly than before, looking McGee straight in the eye.

"Uh…" he stammered. "It's going well, actually. I'm at chapter twenty-fooouuur!" He cried out the last word, his voice laced with pain. "What did you do?" he moaned, looking down at his hand.

She smiled slightly. "Your finger was dislocated. I put it back in place."

McGee stared at her. "You could've warned me!"

Chuckling, she stood up and offered him her hand. He took it with his good hand and she pulled him up. "It was easier this way," she stated.

He shook his head in disbelief. "For you, maybe," he muttered darkly. "But why did you ask about my book?" he then questioned in a normal voice, his brow furrowing.

She gave him a look she always did when he'd missed something. When he asked something he should've known. "To distract you, of course," she answered matter-of-factly. "Now you should go to the hospital," she added.

McGee opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced his complaints before he could even start. "No arguing." There was an edge to her tone which made him comply. He started towards the front door. "You cannot drive like this," she pointed out.

"I'll manage," he argued, but she brushed past him.

"I will take you there."

"I'm coming with you," Tony called out and tried to exit, but Ziva reached out and took hold of his arm, thus stopping him. He turned around, an irritated scowl crossing his features. "What?" he demanded.

She glared at him. "You have work tomorrow. Quantico naval base. At zero-eight-hundred." She checked her watch. "It is four minutes to midnight."

"So?"

"Go to sleep. McGee doesn't need a parade to take him to get his finger looked at." She pushed him towards the staircase. "Good night, my little hairy butt," she said with a playful smile.

He gave her a hard glare, but stomped up the stairs anyway.

"Gibbs wanted me to bring your uniform over," McGee called after him. "It's on the counter."

He got no reply.

"He'll find it," he concluded with a sigh. Then Ziva steered him out of the door into the night.

* * *

_I hope you liked it. Now how about a little review? :)_

_A/N: This is the second version of this chapter. In the first one McGee dislocated his wrist, but I was told shortly after putting it up that it would be quite hard to just set a wrist in a home environment. So now he has a dislocated finger.  
_


	10. Chapter 10

_This chapter is dedicated to Endoh Misaki, who requested the pillow talk :)_

* * *

"What exactly were you doing with our curtain anyway?" Ziva inquired as she pulled onto the highway. She shot a curious glance in McGee's direction, all the while attempting to press the gas pedal through the floor of the car. At least that's how it seemed to McGee. Just when he'd started believing she'd actually improved her driving.

He gripped the edge of his seat with his good hand. "Could you please watch the road?" he pleaded, trying to force his voice to sound calm. With not much success, but at least he tried.

Ziva shrugged and complied. "Well?" she questioned.

McGee sighed and kept himself from looking out of the side window, an action which would've surely made his mind realize their actual speed. "Gibbs wanted me to put cameras into the house, just in case."

She made a sharp overtake, and just as quickly as she'd switched the lane, she was back in the old one. "Into every room?"

He gave a muffled shriek over the sudden maneuver. "All but the bedroom. And of course not bathrooms. I'll put the bedroom one into place tomorrow," he promised.

Ziva stepped hard on the break when the car in front of her haltered for no visible reason. She slammed her hand onto the horn and switched lanes to pass the car. Looking out from the window to her left she could see a middle-aged man with a rather worried expression talking to his cell phone. He didn't seem to be aware of what was happening around him.

"Do not bother with the bedroom," she said. It sounded a bit like an order rather than a suggestion.

"But Gibbs said…" McGee started, but was cut off.

"I do not care what Gibbs said." She turned her head to glare at him.

He quickly looked away. "Fine," he replied.

Satisfied with the outcome Ziva looked back at the road ahead of them. She didn't want to get McGee in trouble with Gibbs for disobeying his orders, but it wasn't like she was going to give up the last spot where they could get some privacy. That was, of course, if they planned to use it someday. But nevertheless it was good to know that they could, well, get intimate without Gibbs knowing about it right away.

At the same time McGee tried to get his mind off the matter. It wasn't really any of his business what his coworkers did in the bedroom. In a shared bedroom. In a shared bed. He knew he'd probably never find out anyway. That, however, couldn't keep him from speculating. Nor keep him from being interested.

His mind of a writer started formulating it into a scene. Maybe Tommy would fall off a chair and hurt himself and Lisa would make him feel better. Then maybe something involving bedroom and both Tommy and Lisa tearing the clothes off of each other…

He was yanked out of his musings by Ziva bringing the car to a halt in front of a large building that was presumably the hospital.

**oOoOo**

Ziva parked the car into the driveway of her and Tony's new house. She got out of the vehicle and closed the door quietly to not wake Tony in case he'd managed to fall asleep. McGee did the same, using his right hand, seeing as half of his left was now in a plaster cast. His pinkie and the finger next to it, to be precise.

The diagnosis on his finger had been one that his imaginative mind didn't take very easily. The binds keeping the joint together were broken, but in his head he could see the joint moving up and down, from right to left, back and forth, with nothing keeping it together. He'd forced the image out of his mind, but his stomach had still done flip-flops when the doctor had looked at his pinkie from different angles, made some thoughtful noises and sent him to the x-ray.

He'd felt even worse when another doctor had looked at the picture, and with a grim look, told him what was wrong with it.

McGee couldn't stop wondering if all of the doctors in trauma were like that, overly dramatic, or was it just his questionable luck.

"Thanks for taking me to the hospital," he said to Ziva. He raised his bandaged hand and gave a short chuckle.

She shrugged indifferently. "No problem," she replied and set her steps towards the house. "Good night, McGee."

He nodded once, in an affirmation that he'd heard her. "Good night." He didn't add her name to the end, since he was not entirely sure which name he should use. Her real one, or her undercover one? It was unlikely that any nosy neighbor was watching them at 1 AM at night, but it was better to be sure than sorry.

He headed to his car, only to find a cat with very fluffy brown and black fur sleeping on the front of his car, making use of the warmth the engine was radiating.

He muttered incoherently under his breath and tapped rather loudly onto the metal. "Hey!" he called, tapping a little louder.

The cat raised its head and blinked once at him, making no move to leave though.

McGee sighed and tentatively reached out and pushed the animal slightly. "Go home," he ordered and pushed harder.

The cat rose to its feet and made a sound towards McGee that was both angry and annoyed at the same time. It then proceeded to jump down his car gracefully. To McGee's great relief it ran away along the street, wiggling its tail at him. After about fifteen yards it turned away from the street into some bushes and disappeared from McGee's sight.

oOoOo

In the meantime Ziva entered the house, slipping through the door quietly as a ghost. She placed her keys onto a small table near the door and ascended the stairs, her feet making no sound against the wooden surface.

She relayed solely on her memory as she made her way through the pitch black darkness of the room. Her memory didn't fail her. She entered their bedroom, and again refrained from putting on any light.

First she went to the bathroom where she quickly brushed her teeth, then she reentered the bedroom. Finding her way towards the bed wasn't nearly as difficult as it had been to find the bedroom. Tony hadn't pulled the covers in front of the window, a fact which allowed the moonlight to shine in its full force. It painted the whole room a shade of cold blue.

He was laying on the right side of the bed, leaving the left side, which was also the side closer to the window, vacant. Ziva slipped under the covers, wondering if he'd known which side she prefers, or he just liked the right side better.

A small smile graced her features as she remembered the sleeping arrangements for their last undercover op together which required them sleeping together. Then too, had she slept on the left side of the bed.

She saw, as well as felt, Tony shifting beside her. Moonlight illuminated his face, the blue giving it a surreal look. His eyes were open.

"You are not sleeping?" she questioned softly.

He chuckled quietly. "Do I look like I am?"

Ziva shrugged with one shoulder. "I suppose not," she agreed. Their gazes lingered on each other.

"How did Probie's hand-drama end?"

This time it was Ziva who chuckled. "He got a cast," she informed him.

Tony smirked. "Yeah," he said absently. "Leave it to him to break something."

The silence filled the room for a minute.

"You know," Ziva begun once she'd found the silence had gotten a bit too long. "You really have to go to work tomorrow."

He groaned loudly and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "It's not like I have to actually _work _in Quantico!" he exclaimed.

Ziva rolled onto her back as well. "Judging by what McGee said, they're going to find you a suitable place there."

He immediately propped his head up on one elbow, his eyes suddenly becoming sharp and focused. "Why wasn't I told that?" he demanded.

She merely shrugged again. "Do not blame me. I am merely the messenger." She propped her head up on her elbow too, mirroring his posture. "How did your saying go? Don't stab the messenger?"

Tony snorted. "Don't shoot the messenger," he corrected. "Speaking of shooting, you still sleep with a gun?"

She gave him a smirk, her eyes sparkling playfully. "Find out for yourself," she suggested.

He grinned and reached his hand under her pillow. Sure enough, his fingertips brushed against metal. He drew his hand back. "And there goes the illusion of a nice innocent wife." He shook his head, feigning deep disappointment.

She grinned mischievously, looking a lot like a Cheshire cat. "I never said I am nice and innocent," she reminded him playfully. "Meow." She chuckled at the wicked expression that appeared on her "husband's" face. "Good night, Tony."

He shook his head slightly in wonder. "Good night, my crazy ninja."

* * *

_I know you deserve a longer chapter, but that's all I've got right now. And I figured a bit shorter than usual update is better than no update at all :)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Here, I finally updated. I know it's been a month, and before you come running towards me with pitchforks, please hear me out. I have this MAJOR writer's block and it's driving me crazy! I want to write, I have the time, but when I try, I can't! If any one of you have a way of getting rid of the block, please share!_

* * *

Ziva woke the next morning to a blinding light shining through the window. And the heat of a room left to bake in the sun. She refrained from groaning loudly. That's what came from leaving the window uncurtained.

The next thing she noticed was the warmth against her backside, along with the arm draped strongly, but caringly around her middle. A muscular and nicely tanned arm, a fact she failed to not notice.

She turned her head and a small smile appeared on her features as she was met with the face of one Tony DiNozzo. He looked so calm, so peaceful…

Shaking her head slightly she dragged herself away from the thought before it could start properly. Really not the moment to have a thought of _that _kind, she decided.

It was so comfortable laying there in his embrace, not to mention warm. Plus the emotional comfort she got from being so close to him.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 4:13. Wonderful. She slipped out of bed, very careful not to wake Tony up. She made her way overt to the window. After opening it slightly to let some air into the room she pulled the covers on it, thus blocking the blinding light of a beautiful June morning.

Then she went back to bed, positioning herself as she'd been before, tightly against him, with his arm over her waistline.

It was early for a run, so she could still sleep for an hour or two. Snuggling closer to Tony, she closed her eyes.

She woke again to the sound of birds twittering outside. After making a mental note to not leave the window open she got out of bed. Now it was 5:47.

She went to the dresser and, after some searching, pulled out her running clothes. It looked like when she and Tony had unpacked their things the previous day, neither had done it in a sensible order. There was a total chaos in the dresser, as well as in the closet. What were her running clothes doing in the middle of his shirts? And why, why on Earth were his ties mixed up with her underwear?

Shaking her head at the mess she put the clothes on. After a little brushing she pulled her hair into a ponytail and headed out of the room, throwing one last glance in Tony's direction. He was as she left her, his arm, which had embraced her middle just moments ago, now lying on the sheet in the place where she'd been.

She pulled the door close after her, making sure it did not click loudly and skipped down the stairs.

The morning air felt wonderful. It had the promise of getting really warm, much warmer than the day before. It had been a bit chilly yesterday, but now it was pleasant. After doing some warm-up stretches she started down the street in a slow jog. After a few hundred yards she began to increase her pace gradually.

The neighborhood was new to her, foreign, but she didn't mind. After taking the same route for more than a year it was nice to see some different surroundings around her.

She picked the streets completely randomly while keeping in mind where she'd come from to not get lost in the maze of all those similar-looking streets.

When she rounded the corner to their home street, she saw a man walking towards her. He was probably in his sixties, maybe even seventies, but he looked rather healthy.

She slowed down. When there were about five yards between them she went from a slowing jog to a walk.

"Hi," she called out, smiling.

"Hello," the man replied. "A nice morning for a run," he commented.

Ziva looked around. "Yes, it is."

"Too bad my bones aren't up for running anymore. I have to settle with walking." He rubbed his back to illustrate his words. "I'm Dave," he introduced himself, reaching out his right hand for Ziva to shake.

Dave. She remembered Tony's words from the previous night. _There's a man in this neighborhood who hates Jews. Said his name's Dave._ Not showing anything on the outside, she shook his hand. "Adina."

She noticed a flash in Dave's eyes upon hearing her name. his gaze drifted downwards to where her Star of David necklace lay. His previously friendly face hardened right before Ziva's eyes. His jaw tightened.

"I have to go," he informed her in a much colder voice than before. Before Ziva could say anything he'd brushed past her, not giving her another glance.

She looked after Dave as he strolled away along the street, quickly getting farther. Her hand was playing absently with the necklace. She narrowed her eyes at his back. It looked like the men's' words were true and Dave really didn't like Jews.

**oOoOoOo**

Tony woke up to discover a cold spot beside him that definitely hadn't been there before. He took a glance at the clock. 06:59. That was interesting. Waking up exactly a minute before the alarm. Chuckling, he got out from the warm bed and set his pace towards the bathroom. Looking into the mirror didn't make him happier. He looked like he'd slept for about twelve hours.

He bent over the sink and splashed cold water onto his face repeatedly. It made him look slightly better. He muttered darkly when he noticed that along with his face he'd splashed water all over the counter. He grabbed the towel to wipe it up.

When the countertop looked decent enough he headed for the stairs, still in his pajamas. A pleasant aroma hit his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, a smile appearing on his face.

He discovered the source of the scent in the kitchen. Ziva was cooking something on the stove, her back to him. he could hear her humming a song softly.

"Good morning, Tony," she said without turning around.

He grinned widely. Her acute ninja senses were all still there. He loved it. He moved over to where she was standing and wrapped his arm around her. Resting his chin on her shoulder he looked at the frying pan.

Pancakes.

"Mm," he hummed, "I love pancakes."

He caught sight of the small smile on her features. He reached out towards the plate next to the stove where the stack of pancakes lay, only to find he wasn't quick enough. She gave his hand a playful swat with the spatula. "Go wait at the table," she ordered, turning her head slightly to look at him. Her eyes sparkled.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Yes ma'am," he said, and bowed at her. She laughed. He pulled one chair out from under the table and sat on it, his eyes following her every move.

With Tony out of the way, she removed the pancake from the frying pan and poured the last of the dough onto the pan. She then turned off the heat.

She took two plates from the cupboard, now perfectly spider-free, and two glasses, and placed them onto the table. She then turned back to the pancake slowly frying on the fading heat. Tony got the hint and got up to get forks and knives. He poured orange juice into glasses.

It all felt so right, they moved around the kitchen in perfect harmony, never once bumping into each other. It felt as if they'd been living together for years, rather than just a day.

Ziva took the last pancake off the pan and dropped it onto the stack. She brought the plate to the table, along with a bowl of grated cheese and a mixture of sour cream, lemon juice, tuna and black pepper.

Tony leaned forward to inspect the suspicious looking white mix. He lowered his head closer to the bowl and sniffled. The result was a sneeze when pepper particles invaded the privacy of his nose.

"What's that?" he asked, gesturing at the bowl, his eyebrows up in wonder.

She smirked and sat down opposite of him. "Find out for yourself," she advised teasingly.

He watched as she reached out and plopped one pancake onto her plate, scattered cheese over it, rolled it up and splayed the white sauce all over it. "Well," he contemplated as she placed the first piece into her mouth. "I guess I could give it a try." He proceeded to do everything she had done.

Ziva watched with anticipation as he slowly cut the first piece of the pancake. A small smile was playing on her lips. He raised the fork in front of his eyes and inspected the piece with a serious expression. He pouted his lips slightly in thought. "Hmm," he hummed quietly.

She couldn't help but give a small laugh at the show he created of eating pancakes. He chuckled at her reaction and placed the piece of pancake into his mouth. "Mmm," he said appreciatively. He swallowed the piece to speak more clearly. "Where did you learn to cook like that?" he demanded, his eyes wide with surprise.

She didn't even try to hide her smile. "My mother taught me."

"Well, she did a hell of a good job," he noted and shoved another piece into his mouth.

Her smile turned into a smaller one, one full of fond memories. Tony noticed. The forkful of pancake stopped midway to his mouth and his eyes became focused on her face. Her gaze was directed at the pancake stack between them, but he knew that wasn't what she was looking at.

"You've never spoken about her," he noted, hoping to get something out of her. She didn't even look at him. "Where is she?"

Ziva's eyes snapped up from the pancake plate, but softened immediately when she saw the look of pure interest on his features. "She is in Jerusalem," she said softly. There was a glint of something in her dark eyes, but Tony couldn't quite identify what it was.

But her answer caught him off guard. "She's alive?" he blurted out, regretting his words at once. Why had he always assumed Ziva's mom would be dead?

But she didn't seem to mind. Instead she chuckled. "Yes, Tony," she replied. "She is alive." Her eyes met Tony's awaiting ones. "You know," she started. "There is a reason why I don't talk about my personal life."

He nodded. "Mossad training and all, I know." When she said nothing, he continued carefully, to not break the air of thoughtfulness that had fallen upon them. He had noticed that people were more willing to talk in an air like that. "You could make an exception," he suggested lightly.

She smiled. "I haven't spoken to her in eight years," she begun. Tony was shocked she'd actually taken his suggestion and made an exception for him. "We had a fight the day I joined Mossad. She tried to talk me out of it."

Her hand played absently with the fork. "Apparently she didn't succeed," Tony couldn't help but comment.

The corner of her mouth twisted upwards. "I wouldn't let her. She wanted me to have a normal life, not the life my father wanted for me. I believe she felt like I was choosing him over her. She told me I could ruin my life if I wanted, but she would have nothing to do with it."

Tony reached out and covered her hand with his in a comforting manner. "I'm sorry."

She looked at his hand atop hers. "She called me once after that. In about a year. I was away."

He didn't know what to say.

"I never called her back." She sounded like she might cry at an moment.

Tony rubbed her hand with his thumb. "It's never too late to patch things up."

She gave a practically unnoticeable smile. "I know." Then she averted her eyes to the clock on the wall. "You have to get moving or you'll be late," she ordered him, all sings of her previous somber mood gone. Tony stared at her for a moment in surprise, with an edge of annoyance to it. How came she always hid behind the wall she'd created for herself? She had opened up to him, but then? What happened? He didn't know.

Muttering darkly about the life of a Marine he got up and stomped to the upper floor.

* * *

_I hope you liked it! I know it's not much after a month of waiting, but hey, it's longer than the last one! Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! Please review!  
_


End file.
